The Touchables

Do you feel the hourglasses in your wrists? Or the urge to cut them out?I wonder if anyone thinks about time as much as I do. How it’s the most wretched villain of all.Time consumes us, keeps us in straitjackets and tells the young,“you are untouchable.” We think we’re untouchable, but we’re not. Because, sooner or later, time takes off that mask and reveals that it is not in fact the bulletproof glass we thought it was,but plastic. Disposable, flimsy plastic.This is why I have made the executive decision to enjoy every single moment of this existence.Yes, I will miss being woken up on Saturday mornings by the loudness of my mother’s voice from all the way downstairs, but I know that one day my fear will be behind a glass case, an artifact that will be untouched.So long as I’m open to being alive.